Snap, Click, Simmer
by Robin Siskin
Summary: They are on the edge of something beautiful, teetering precariously on the brink. [Oneshot, AUish, Ban x Ginji][M for sexual references]


**A/N – **Don't blame me, blame Ed Harcourt. It's his fault for hypnotizing me with his devastatingly sexy and inspiring music…and for being British (there, I said it!). It's a bit OOC, but I like how this turned out. Questions? Comments? Con/crit? Write me up a review. Enjoy!

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The smell of alcohol lies heavy on the air.

It is silent until Ban takes out that familiar, worn-out lighter and flips it open to light a cigarette in a way that has become second nature to him and a comfort to Ginji.

Snap, click, simmer.

The noise of the cigarette when it is first lit can be described is nothing except a simmer. It is the barest breath of a noise, quieter than the first frantic inhalation of smoke that Ban takes and the first heavy, pulse-slowing exhalation. The soft simmer brings out an acrid smell, one that isn't nearly as mellow or smoky or earthy as the one that comes when he exhales, and Ginji much prefers the latter.

Now, however, even though Ban has been nursing the cigarette down to the filter, the smell in the air remains one mostly of alcohol. He is drunk; Ginji is drunk, they are both piss drunk, and Ginji doesn't care. Maybe Ban does, but he does not know and would not know even if he asked. He would come away from _that_ experience with a bump on his head and an arm around his shoulder and a strange steadiness in previously swerving feet that seems to make up for the swerving and unsteadiness that will arrive with the things to come.

Ban exhales.

Ginji inhales.

They will never be the kind of pair that breathes at the same rate or will share moments entwined around each other, their hearts beating in unison, not just because Ban will not tolerate that kind of intimacy so soon after the kind of love that penetrates the deepest (if not necessarily the strongest kind), but because Ginji will not allow himself to confuse the sounds of the each of them living. If he is inhaling while Ban is exhaling and vice versa, Ginji will always know that the breathing he is hearing is Ban's and not just his own mixed up. He can always confirm that they are both still alive. If they are breathing at the same pace and their hearts are beating in unison, they cannot be sure that they are not just alive because the other is. However much they depend on and care for each other, they have their own goals to attend to.

Ginji exhales.

Ban inhales.

The smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke is warm and thick around them, and Ban is not even smoking at the moment.

No, they will never be the kind of pair to be perfectly in sync. The bond they have is much different from the kind where two people fit together perfectly like fingers lacing together. Ban and Ginji do not fit together perfectly.

It does not matter.

Ban drops his still smoldering cigarette to the ground, exhales shakily.

Ginji drives his heel into the glowing clump of ashes as they walk on, closes his eyes, inhales sharply.

Somewhere a little bit away from them, a dog barks and a chain link fence rattles. A car zooms along at breakneck speed, honking at a slouched over man with his collar turned up who replies by yelling at the driver and the world to watch where you're going, yo. They begin to walk faster for no reason that no outsider would understand. Something wondrous is about to happen, something magical. They are on the edge of something beautiful, teetering precariously on the brink. It is something that a couple that fits together perfectly could never understand, because for a couple like that the only thing for them is release, and for Ban and Ginji there is no such thing as an easy release. It is an exhausting ordeal every time of lips struggling to fit together and hands clambering and tripping over each other to reach abused belt buckles, of fingertips tentatively brushing over skin for the briefest moment and souls straining out towards each other.

It is not the release they crave, but the journey to reach it. It keeps them strong, keeps them on their toes.

It keeps them in lust.

They get to their room and Ban takes out a cigarette and the lighter again.

Ginji exhales.

Ban inhales.

Snap, click, simmer. Red-orange glow of the ember in the darkness of the room. They won't turn the lights on. They never do.

Ban exhales.

Ginji inhales.

Snap, click, simmer.

It keeps them in love.

**-Owari-**


End file.
